'You're right. It's impossible. After all, isn't Angelo Falcone the most charismatic man in the universe? The most intelligent? The sexiest?'
'A cynic might think that you're being sarcastic but thankfully I'm no cynic. At least, not at the moment.' He kissed her, a light, teasing kiss that evolved into a hungry demand, and felt her body weaken against him.
'Shall we continue this in my bedroom?' he asked softly, breaking off to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ears.
'A bed might be more comfortable than the kitchen floor,' Francesca agreed.
They made it up to the bedroom in double speed. By now she was as familiar with his house as she was with her own, although the familiarity was only skin deep. She knew the format of its layout but since they rarely did anything normal inside it, like flop around with cups of coffee or watch television or even sit in some of the chairs with a good book or a newspaper on a Sunday morning, it still had the feel of a very nice, very comfortable hotel. The most intimate thing she did there, aside from make love, was have a shower.
She had also put candles in his bedroom, ignoring his objections that they were a potential fire hazard. Atmosphere, she had told him. Nothing was as wonderfully atmospheric as candles flickering in the dark. And scented ones were even better. Every so often she replaced them and had been amused when, a couple of weeks back, she had discovered that he had added one or two to the collection.
She got undressed as he carefully lit them one by one and she felt a lump gather in her throat. It seemed strangely romantic in a union that was devoid of all romance.
She was out of her clothing by the time his ritual lighting of the candles was over and Angelo turned and looked at her, marvelling at the lithe, graceful lines of her body. Full breasts, perfectly moulded and topped with large rose-coloured nipples, a stomach that owed nothing to exercise and everything to her gene pool, slender hips and legs that were as supple as a gazelle's. Any wonder she still had such a hold over him? What man in his right mind wouldn't want to make love to a woman as exquisite as that over and over again?
He stood where he was and unbuttoned his shirt. His skin felt hot. He tugged the shirt off and tossed it on the floor, then his trousers and boxers followed suit. He was heavily aroused and it amused him to see the way her eyes drifted to his erect manhood. He could almost hear the little catch in her breath. He took it in one hand and tantalised her by slowly pleasuring himself.
Without saying anything, Francesca moved to the bed and lay down, stretching out provocatively and curling her fingers around the wrought iron railings of the bed head.
Angelo moved towards her, hand still on his stiffened member, until he was standing right over her.
'Oh, the games people play.' He laughed softly, watching as she moved forward so that she could push his hand away and replace it with her mouth. He had never known a woman who was so adept at giving him pleasure, just as she was giving him pleasure now, licking and sucking the massive swell of his erection.
He plunged his fingers into her hair and arched back, knowing that he was only a hair's breadth away from spilling his seed. He had to exercise the utmost control, making sure that his breathing was deep and even. He tugged her gently away when he was actually aching from the need to ejaculate.
'Oh, no, my beautiful little witch.' Their eyes met and tangled in the half light. 'I want to savour every last inch of you before I get there … I want you to hold on to the iron rails and don't let go, whatever I do … '
'Sounds ominous. Should I be scared?'
'Only if you're scared of going to Heaven … '
'That's a big promise.'
'And I'm a man who always keeps his.' He straddled her and she held fast to the rails of the bed head. Her breasts pouted up at him, the rosy nipples swollen and sensitive, but first he kissed her, leaning down and supporting himself on either side of her with his hands. His kiss was hot and urgent and her body arched up until she could feel his member rubbing against her. Lord, but how she wanted him! Her body felt weak and helplessly driven.
She wrapped her arms around him to pull him down and he tutted into her ear.
'No cheating, now.'
'I have to touch you, Angelo!'
'In due course … Now, am I going to have to tie you up? I'm not averse to a little bondage.'
A hot surge of excitement flooded her and she grinned at him, her breathing quick and unsteady.
'Oh, you keep handcuffs on the premises, do you? Very kinky, Mr Falcone. I wonder what your mother would have to say about that!'
'Not handcuffs, my little darling. But I do have a wide assortment of silk ties.' He nibbled her neck while she writhed under him, desperate for him to press himself against her.
'Silk ties sound like fun.' Francesca couldn't believe what she was saying but her trust in him was so utterly complete. Where no other man would ever be permitted to venture, she flung open the door to him. He wrapped silk ties around her wrists, so loosely that she could pull free of them at any time, not that she wanted to.
Then, inch by inch, he explored her body, starting with her shoulders and working his way down to her breasts. He suckled on them, tugging the tips gently with his teeth and drawing moans of pleasure from her. Instead of rushing him to continue, she was constrained by the ties to submit to this leisurely exploration. His tongue trailed along her stomach, circling her belly button as his hands smoothed sensuously along her sides, then up to massage her breasts, to prime them for yet more erotic pleasure. His tongue rasping over her nipples dragged a groan out of her-a husky, animal sound that she couldn't believe she had made.
'This isn't fair!' Francesca panted, and he stopped in the middle of his sensory feasting on her breasts to glance up at her.
'But are you enjoying yourself?'
'You know I am! But I want you!'
'And I want you too,' he confirmed smugly. 'In the meantime, lie back and have fun … ' He grinned at her. 'Think of England!'
Francesca thought of anything but England. In fact, she didn't think at all. She just obeyed his command for her to have fun although it bordered on the impossible not to drag herself free of her silken trap when he parted her legs and inserted himself between them so that he could breathe in the sweetness of her femininity. A few flicks of his tongue and she was quivering and moving against his mouth, urging him on with her body.
Angelo cupped her buttocks with his hands and brought her up to meet his questing tongue, which he slid rhythmically over her sensitised bud. He could feel it throbbing. He knew her body as well as he knew his own, knew when the time was right for him to cease pleasuring her in that manner because she needed him to thrust into her or else she would tip over the edge into her own private climax.
Francesca's body welcomed him in, moving in the same rhythm as his as he took her to a shuddering orgasm that left her trembling in its aftermath.
He undid the silk ties and massaged her wrists.
'Look at them, they're ruined,' Francesca said, turning the ties over in her hands.
'Well worth the money I spent on them.' Angelo grinned and felt like a young man who had just ravished the woman of his dreams. He cupped her breast with his hand, a gesture of possession, and Francesca's stomach went into tiny, painful knots. She edged away and lay on her side, primly tugging the quilt up so that it covered her.
'I think I'm going to have a bath now.' It was the last thing she felt like doing when her body was still so pleasantly slumberous and content, but she had to talk to him and talking would be better fully dressed.
Angelo gave a little frown of consternation. 'Why?'
'Because I want to get cleaned up. You know … '
'No, I don't.' He was feeling it again. That little nagging apprehension that had been there at the restaurant. He told himself that he was mistaken, that no woman who had made love as passionately as she just had would ever have anything to say to him that might cause him concern. 'But if you really feel you need to shower, then go ahead. Care for me to come and help you?'
'I think tonight I might manage the exercise on my own.'
When she emerged, she was fully dressed and she saw his eyebrows raise in surprise.
'We need to talk. I know talking isn't part of … this deal we have, but … '
He patted a space on the bed next to him and Francesca remained where she was. 'Why don't you get dressed? I can't talk to you when-when you're naked under the covers.'
Angelo looked at her carefully. He heard the edgy wariness in her voice and he knew what was coming, what this little talk was going to be about.